


Epilogue: Always The Righteous Man

by vespertineflora



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x13, 9x13 RECOVERY, Coda, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, episode s09e13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vespertineflora/pseuds/vespertineflora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his argument with Sam, Dean is left with his thoughts and a bottle of whiskey, the easy beginning of a downwards spiral... until Cas returns unexpectedly. I'm fixing 9x13 because that really hurt okay</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epilogue: Always The Righteous Man

**Author's Note:**

> are you in pain? because i'm in pain, so we're sending cas in to fix it, i won’t even care when this gets made uncanon in a few weeks that was too painful i need SOMETHING

The idea that Dean had managed to accomplish more good than bad was the only thing that kept him going most days. He believed it because he had to. The one damn thing that could always get him up out of bed in the morning was the thought that maybe, just maybe, he could save a life that day, maybe somebody else would get to keep living because he’d gotten up off his ass and killed an evil thing. It was the one damn thing he actually got out of his pathetic excuse for a life, the one thing he could feel proud of.

But now, the argument with Sam and three quarters of a bottle of whiskey later, Dean didn’t know if he could believe any of it anymore.

He wanted so badly to deny it. He wanted to forget what Sam had said and justify his life by remembering all the lives he’d saved, but thinking anything decent of himself was hard on a good day; drunk and exhausted and absolutely wrecked as he was, he didn’t stand a chance. The lives he’d saved... they paled in comparison to the number he’d ruined and hurt and he knew it, he’d always known it. Kevin was dead because of his stupid decision, but it wasn’t just Kevin; there were hundreds of people over the years that he’d hurt, lives he’d ruined, people he’d gotten killed, people who had been tainted just by his presence, and that didn’t even touch on the years he’d spent in hell, the souls he’d tortured. The sheer number of people who would have been better off had Dean Winchester died years ago seemed infinitely staggering and he was an idiot for ever trying to deceive himself into thinking otherwise.

Sam was hurt too, clearly Dean had fucked up badly enough to push his brother away, and even the sick sense of satisfaction he felt at thinking ‘well at least he’s alive,’ did nothing to temper the pain crushing his heart. He could hear his dad as if it were yesterday, as if he hadn’t been dead for almost a decade, telling him to protect his brother, protect Sammy with his life, because if Sammy died, it meant Dean had failed, that he’d screwed up the one important task he’d been given in life, it meant he was worthless no matter what else he did, and Dean just didn’t know how to handle that.

He stopped bothering pretending he was still researching. He couldn’t read the screen without his head lurching, and couldn’t see the words through the tears in his eyes anyway. All he wanted was a few fitful hours of being dead to the world and he hoped maybe he could at least be numb to it in the morning. He slammed the lid of the laptop closed harder than he had too and tipped the rest of the bottle of whiskey back against his lips and downed the rest of it in three burning gulps.

Leaving the empty bottle and the laptop behind, Dean stumbled out into the hallway. It’d been a while since he’d had this much alcohol all at once and it was hitting him hard; it was hard to keep track of his footing and he ended up leaning against the wall as he struggled down the hallway, just trying to hold himself together and keep himself upright.

It was over when he heard an all too familiar voice at the end of the hallway, echoing towards him with distinct concern, “Dean?”

Dean winced and swallowed hard, pausing to brace himself against the wall. He didn’t need to look up to know it was Cas, even though Cas wasn’t even supposed to be here, Cas had... gone after the angels or something, he wasn’t supposed to be at the bunker, he wasn’t supposed to see Dean like this, no one was.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas asked, his voice more urgent than before as he moved quickly towards him.

Then all of a sudden Cas was in his space, in front of him, his hands reaching out to touch his face tenderly, more tenderly than Dean could handle, more tenderly than Dean deserved, because Dean was worthless, he was the scum of the earth, his very existence was a curse on humanity, a plague on good people everywhere, and anyone on the planet right then deserved comfort and tenderness more than Dean did.

“C-cas,” he managed out, wanting to... tell him to go, to leave him alone, wanting to get Cas away from him because he didn’t deserve the way Cas was looking at him with such concern, but he choked before he could say anymore and a tear rolled down his cheek and he felt weak and stupid and even worse than before and suddenly, Cas moved even closer, wrapping his arms around Dean and pulling him firmly to his chest.

Dean hadn’t known what to expect, but... it certainly hadn’t been that. He hadn’t thought Cas would suddenly be hugging him for the first real time, holding him close, hands splayed gently over his back, and even though Dean knew he should push Cas away and let himself suffer, he couldn’t. He was weak and indulgent and he needed this more than he could put into words, so before he could even think about it, he was clinging to Cas, burying his face into the shoulder of his new trench coat, tears sliding across the rainproof fabric as Dean clenched his teeth and swallowed hard and tried to make them stop.

They stood like that for a long time, Cas seeming to understand the need for it without being told, until Dean finally choked it out, what had happened, what Sammy had said to him, and Castiel let him talk without interruption. 

It was only once Dean had run out of words to say that Cas finally moved. He pulled back but not away, his hands going for Dean’s shoulder, touching Dean’s face to create eye contact and keep it, though once Dean locked eyes with Castiel, he knew better than to think he’d be able to look away.

Castiel’s eyes were glowing with something close to righteous fury, passionate and indignant and radiating with it as he looked at him. “Dean Winchester,” he said, his voice firm (Dean found the tears stopping instantly), “You are not worthless.”

“But...” Dean cracked, his voice wet and wavering, “but Sammy...”

“Is wrong,” Castiel finished the sentence strongly. “Sam is hurt right now, so I’ll forgive him for what he said, and he’s not wrong that your relationship with him is unhealthy, but what he said about you doing more harm than good is the most incorrect thing I’ve ever heard.”

Dean was stunned into silence for a moment. He wanted to believe Cas. He wanted to so badly, and the way Cas spoke made it impossible to ignore.

“Dean, in the course of your life you’ve sacrificed everything for the sake of your family, for your friends... and for people you’ve never even met. You’ve spent most of your life risking your own death to save other people’s lives by killing the things that would kill them, people you’ve never heard of or met. You risk your life for them because their happiness is important to you.”

Dean could feel the tears in his eyes again as he listened to Cas, but they were different now as he tried to grab onto the words, tried to let them sink in...

“Yes, you’ve made bad decisions. You’ve been desperate, upset, and you’ve made choices that are wrong, but so have all of us. I know what it means to screw up, trust me. But Dean,” he said, his eyes growing softer, an almost ache in them for the man standing in front of him, “I can see your soul. I know you. You are so inherently good. Even though the loss and hurt you’ve experienced in life would break most humans of their ability to care, you still do, and you do it forcefully, you care so much that it overwhelms you. You care so much that it destroys you when you fail because you can’t stand the thought of other people suffering the loss that you’ve suffered.

“And yes, Sam is angry and perhaps had a right to be, but he is NOT right about this. There are thousands of real, living people that are alive and happy simply because you exist. You are important and your life has worth and purpose and I won’t have your brother or anyone else letting you think otherwise.” 

Cas’s voice was so resolute, full of such finality, as if there was no possible way to argue with him because what he’d said was fact, plain and simple. And Dean wanted to believe him, and maybe it was because he was drunk and tired and because this was Cas that... in the moment, he didn’t have another choice. He gave in, let himself believe Cas because he needed it more than anything.

Then Cas pulled him into another embrace, surprising Dean once more, though he was quick to return it again, and Cas’s voice was gentle as he spoke words into the shell of his ear. “There’s a reason you’re the Righteous Man, Dean. No matter what, you will always be good.”

Dean forced himself to nod, feeling his shoulders shaking as he held onto Cas for a long time in the hallway and even though a tiny voice was still telling him how little he deserved this... he shoved it away, and let Castiel’s words and arms wrap around him to give him some solace, even if it was just for the moment.


End file.
